


Lover, Please Stay

by lacemaze



Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Chase Will Always Be There For Him, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Imagined Light Body Horror, M/M, Panic Attacks, References to Depression, The Doc is the One in Need of Comforting This Time, Vent Writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 21:30:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17988854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacemaze/pseuds/lacemaze
Summary: He barely makes it to the small cot he leaves in the room for long days. He lays down, staring up at the ceiling.He imagines he's strapped to a gurney, and someone will come to pull him apart.Henrik's having a really hard time. He hides down at his lab, hoping to fall apart away from the others. Chase sees him struggling to hold it together and goes to comfort him.





	Lover, Please Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is just a personal vent piece I needed to write. I'm trying to let go of some hurt, need a cathartic outlet and so I turned to my favorite boys. I'm hoping by sharing I can let it go. Maybe provide some comfort to anyone else going through similar. Thank you. <3
> 
> The light gore that's tagged is all imaginary and never gets very graphic. But if you feel like it needs to be tagged better, please, let me know. 
> 
> Title borrowed from the song _Lover, Please Stay_ by: Nothing But Thieves.

When Schneep is ready to fall apart, he goes to his lab and hides. He pretends to be working, knows that'll get the others to leave him alone. He SHOULD be working. He should be finding ways to help people instead of wallowing. But he just wants to fall apart. He wants to break in pieces, match how emotionally exhausted he feels.

His feet drag past tables of reports and beakers filled with various substances. He barely makes it to the small cot he leaves in the room for long days. He lays down, staring up at the ceiling.

He imagines he's strapped to a gurney, and someone will come to pull him apart. Start with his head, slice all the way around his neck. Maybe he should get the glitch, teach him how to do something helpful for a change.

He imagines cool metal slicing down his shoulders and around his armpits, separating his arms from his torso. The scalpel trails down his chest, to his lower half, trailing red streams in its wake. Once his legs are cut from his waist, he lists off what he wants divided from him next. Elbows, knees, hands, feet, fingers, toes. He can see it with perfect accuracy. Wants it so badly.

He doesn't know how long he stares, it feels like days, but likely only hours. He wishes his brain would shut off. Wants to turn down the dial on his emotions. He's the doctor, why does he need feelings in the first place. Medicine can’t be swayed by one’s mental state.

It's no surprise that it's Chase who finds him. He's the emotional one after all. He wavers in front of his vision, staring down at him with worry. Chase is the sad one, they all know it. That's what he's known for. He's more than that of course, but that's their first thought. Sad Dad. It even fucking rhythms. He’d be angry if he could feel anything but stifling in his chest.

“Hey doc.”

“Hello Chase.”

There's silence for a while. They just watch each other. Henrik wants someone to pluck out his eyeballs. He doesn't want to see the sad man. He doesn't want to take that away from him. The man has it worse then he does. He's the good doctor. He should be helping the man, not resenting his tears. He looks through him, guilt rearing its ugly head once more.

Suddenly, things turn blurry and he jumps back into his body, thinking someone really is removing his eyes. Instead, his vision refocuses and Chase's face comes back into his view. Glasses cradled into his outstretched hands.

Henrik blinks at him. He feels a hand trailing down the side of his face. Feels wetness on the man's fingers. No, it's on his cheeks. Henrik is crying. By the amount of moisture he feels he's been crying for a long time.

He hates himself for leaning into the touch when Chase cups his face. Chase is the soft one, always there with a hug or a joke. They should be opposites. Instead, they’re often pulled together. Schneep takes care of the body. Chase takes care of the feelings. 

“Can I stay?” The caring man whispers.

Henrik only nods. Chase crawls into the bed, suffocating the air between them with his presence. The man hugs him close. Head buried in the crook of his neck. Henrik wraps his arms around the man’s waist, trying to resist holding him tight.Their legs tangle and soon it’s impossible to tell where one begins and the other ends.

His chest is hurting. Something trying to break out. He can’t let it out. Doesn’t know if he’s too scared to or if it’s just impossible at this point.

“More,” he asks quietly. Louder when he holds the man in a clinging vice. “More please.”

Chase clutches him harder, bruisingly tight. It’s still not enough. His chest heaves and he starts to panic. He can’t let it out.

The man calls his name, trying to bring him out of his spiral. Henrik shakes, body unable to hold onto what he’s feeling. He turns away, trying to remember how to breathe. He’s afraid to open his mouth.

Chase peels away, Henrik tries not to let him go far, but he fails. Chase straddles his waist, his knees pressed against his sides, pinning him down. He cradles his face once more, turning him so that they can stare at each other again.

“Henrik, I’m here. Henrik, breathe.”

He shakes his head. He can’t. Something’s choking him from inside his throat and he can’t.

Fingers trail down his chest to crawl under his shirt, palm pressed against his chest. Chase takes Henrik’s hand, brings it beneath his to hold his trembling hand to mirror his own. He feels the man’s heart against his hand. There’s a soft rhythm beating against his palm. His own is trying to pound it’s way out of his chest beneath Chase’s hand. He begs the man to rip it out. It hurts. He doesn’t want it. Chase only shakes his head, splays his hand against his chest.

“Count.”

He’s afraid to open his mouth.

“Henrik,” the man begs, leaning over him now. All around him is Chase’s familiar scent, warm and inviting. Their noses brush and he can feel the man’s lips speak against his own. “Love, count for me.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and begins rattling off numbers. English bleeding into German and back again. Tallying them up too fast to be heard clearly. Chase nods encouragingly, thumb brushing against his chest in a soft pattern.

As he goes on and the numbers climb higher, his chest stops heaving. The pressure suffocating him eases and he slows down, counting quieter now. There are tears still streaming down his face, and he forces down a sob. There are calm lips against his own trembling ones.

He opens his eyes, blinking away the wetness to focus on the man’s face once more. Chase’s ever familiar, loving smile on his face. He leans down to rest his forehead against his.

“Are you back with me, love?”

Henrik nods weakly. There’s still a burning in his chest, ready to erupt at a moment now. But he won’t face it alone. Chase is with him. He’ll put him back together again.

“You scared me there,” the man admits, concern in his voice.

Henrik looks away. Before he can open his mouth to apologize, Chase is there to seal it with a gentle kiss.

“None of that,” he rebukes.

Henrik shakes his head. It’s unfair when the man uses his own words against him. There’s been countless days that found Chase resting on this very cot, silently admitting he needed the man’s care. Henrik would be there, brushing away the tears with attentive fingers and loving kisses.

“Come on, lover. Strip and we’ll lay down for a bit. We don’t need to go anywhere today.”

He obeys quietly, letting the man help him out of his clothes until they’re just in their briefs. Chase lays over him, pressed flesh to flesh and tangled once more. Sandwiching him to the bed in a warm, comforting weight. Hearts beating against each other.

Henrik feels sluggish, only moving to trace his fingers against the man’s lips. Chase complies, kissing him with so much love and care, Henrik could cry.

He does cry after a bit, finally letting out the sobs he tried to reign in. Quivering, though nowhere near as bad before. He falls apart safely, held together whole in the man’s arms. Like always, Chase is there, pressed tight, reminding the doctor that he isn’t alone. He overwhelms the sadness with his bright heart.

Henrik knows what the others call him, what they reduce him down to. But he’s more than that. Here, safe away from the world and in each others loving embrace, he only calls the man his. His Chase. His heart to his brain. His.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far reading, thank you so much. We all have bad days, but hopefully they don't last. Hopefully you're not alone in going through them. <3
> 
> The next update for my Valentine's story should be tomorrow. 
> 
> I'm a message away on [My Tumblr](http://lace-maze.tumblr.com/)


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